


Peter Can't Catch A Brake (Except When He Kinda Sorta Does, Almost)

by PipeFox



Series: The Parker Family Tree [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Kinda..., Other, PG13 instead of G/PG Because Deadpool, Peter Fails at Life, Wade makes it all better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipeFox/pseuds/PipeFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is on his way to excepting that his life is going to consist of a string of strange and more often than not unfortunate events. </p>
<p>Of course that doesn't mean something good can't sneak up and bite him in the ass. </p>
<p>Then Wade tries to make it better and more FAIL happens but what're best buds for right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peter Can't Catch A Brake (Except When He Kinda Sorta Does, Almost)

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in a while so help me get back into shape! I love feed back particularly since I'm beta-less. 
> 
> I do have a series of these family-type/themed fics planned and in the works. Mostly fluff and fun with my head cannon but epic badness can only be kept at bay for so long when Peter and Wade are concerned so I'm sure there will be angst eventually.
> 
> Happy reading!!

If rain was cognisant Spiderman would be having a very unfriendly conversation with it instead of swinging home seriously contemplating changing back into his civvies and hoofing the remaining twenty blocks. Of course it wasn’t all the rains fault the bus system was in part to blame, supplied a whisper of reason that sounded suspiciously like Wade. The bus was running five minutes ahead of Spiderman’s decision to wrap up his evening early but even that really wasn’t the worst of his pains right now. The last few minutes had proven without a doubt that drenched denim is more comfortable than clingy, wet spandex. Yet web slinging for twenty blocks was much easier and vastly more efficient than walking so the spandex remained in all of it’s squishy, chafing glory. On a positive note Peter would be home well before curfew because apparently villains didn’t like being soggy either, yet another fun fact to file away in the ‘occasionally useful randomness’ category. 

On the roof of a gas station Peter gave up hope for a reprieve from the rain. After peeling red and blue off with grumbles of what he would later deny was defeat and wriggling into soaked clothes Peter squelched the last half mile home in his well worn sneakers. Spotting an unfamiliar motorcycle parked in front of the house prompted Peter to peek through the drapes into the livingroom window before going in. Another gem from the ‘occasionally useful randomness’ file: “The once in awhile that overly cautious actions inspired by superhero paranoia pays off is well worth the initial feelings of being a ridiculous creeper.”

A vaguely familiar blond man perched stiffly on the couch studying the family pictures that littered most of the surfaces and wall space around him. His broad frame was dressed in a polo and slacks. He seemed nice with his big blue eyes and soft, naturally polite smile but Peter knew better than to trust things like that anymore. Unlocking the door was a startlingly noisy affair and tripping over a misplaced dust bunny in the middle of shouting for Aunt May was the icing on top of the dramatic entrance cake. Peter feels what should be unnecessarily accomplished when he looks over to see the startled stranger standing with blue eyes narrowed warily at him and every muscle in his big, buff body strung tight. Peter closed the front door and did his best to keep the man in his line of sight while looking like every other careless teen at his high school who wouldn’t be keenly aware of all the terrible possibilities presented by a seemingly innocent stranger in his living room. Besides he seriously couldn’t expect his identity to remain secret for long when it took Deadpool less than six hours to figure him out. Peter would never admit it was mostly his own underestimation of the crazy merc, but only mostly, and he would take to his grave how lucky he felt that Wade had taken an instant liking to him because anyone else would have sold him out long before now. Note to self: add a gold star of importance to ‘paranoia pays off eventually’.

“Oh Peter! Your home early, I thought you would call from the library for me to pick you up.” Aunt May walked in from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and a steaming mug, unknowingly diffusing the tense situation building between the skeptical teen and suspicious blond.

“I took the bus. The stop isn’t that far. I need the exercise anyway.” Peter said mildly, blatantly looking the stranger up and down as he walked into the room.

“It’s still raining cats and dogs you should have called but what’s done is done. It worked out for the best I suppose,” She smiled at the stranger and handed him the mug, “Peter this is Steve Rogers. Steve this is my nephew Peter.”

“It’s nice to meet you Peter. May tells me that you're quite a talented young man.” Somehow Steve’s posture simultaneously relaxes and straightens into a military-esc perfection as he holds out his hand for a shake and Peter obliges reluctantly.

“Thanks, can’t say I’ve ever heard of you before.” He doesn’t intend it to come out through clenched teeth or dripping with venomous suspicion but he figures it only adds to the grumpy, “teen angst image” so he goes with it and tacks on a frown for good measure.

The deep sadness in Steve’s face throws Peter; however, and when May curtly suggests changing out of his wet clothes while she gets him something warm to drink he drags his guilt weighted body up the stairs vowing to put the “teen angst image” thing to rest with this guy. Something in the universe did not like it when Steve Rogers frowned and Peter already had enough emotional baggage and self loathing to last a lifetime. After throwing on a fresh pair of sweats and a T-shirt he took the stairs back down slowly for once and managed to catch Aunt May reassuring Steve that she was glad to see him and Peter really needed a strong male figure now more than ever. The tears in her voice made Peter want to go back out regardless of rain and rip down the shiney new Oscorp building with his bare hands just to let off steam. It had nothing to do with avoiding the tears pricking at his eyes mind you. The rending of metal was definitely not a distraction to circumvent sobbing into his pillow like a girl! Of course hearing the sounds of a broad frame shifting on the old couch and a strong hand taking Aunt May’s frail one in a gentle grasp is a good distraction too.

“I’m sorry about Ben. I wish I had been there to do something.” When Steve said that it rang true instead of hollow like every other cop and friend who had offered the same sentiment.

“You didn’t know us from Adam, Steve, don’t be so hard on yourself.Your Captain America, not omniscient. Now I’ve got something for you. Wait right here.” Aunt May was walking toward the stairs now. That was Peters que to wipe the shock off of his face and finish his descent, “Wonderful! Peter you can keep our guest company I’ll be right back.”

“Sure Aunt May.” Peter gave her a smile as she brushed past him and trotted up the stairs herself. Back on the couch Steve (Holy crap Captain America! Peter calm down you’re starting to act like Wade!) was sitting a bit awkwardly with a cookie in one hand and an old Dodgers baseball mug in the other.

“May made cocoa.” Steve gestured with his mug and his polite smile twitched into something almost shy.

“Thanks and I’m, um, sorry about what I said. Its been a long week.” A new smile lit up the man’s face and it was like watching a puppy being told good job or lovers cuddling under starlight and fireworks or something poetically sappy like that. The universe loves it when Steve smiles.

“I can relate to that at least.” Steve chuckled as Peter took the far end of the couch and claimed his favorite mug displaying a coffee molecule.

“And how are you related to us? Aunt May never mentioned anyone.” Peter tried to sound casually curious and not desperate for answers but something in Steves gentle look said the effort was futile.

“Its kinda hard to explain...” Steve distracted himself from the sentence with his hot chocolate.

“I heard Aunt May say that your Captain America.” Peter winced when the older man snorted and choked into his mug. Really smooth Parker you just couldn’t wait until the national icon was done drinking.

“Um, well I guess explaining isn’t so hard then.” Steve breathed deeply for a moment while Peter waited and watched expectantly, “May’s Dad was my uncle. They moved away after my mom died but I couldn’t bring myself to leave Brooklyn.”

“But Aunt May wasn’t born until 1946. Weren’t you already frozen?” Peter felt his inner scientist creeping to the forefront eager for information no matter how sensitive the information may be.

Steve swallowed hard and Peter was about to rescind his question but the man pressed on with a smile, “Yes but she had an older brother and I sent him letters often even before I went over seas. David was a good kid. He loved my doodles and not just the action stories.”

“And mama always said it made Davy madder than a hornet’s nest that the children at school didn’t believe he was penpals with the real Captain America.” Aunt May was back and though Peter saw the tears flashing at the corner of her eye she was smiling like the sun. Fond memories do that to people he supposed.

“He was a pistol even at eight! I got to see him when I was selling bonds, we even went out for ice cream. I think Uncle Jack was in shock though he kept saying ‘you still have her eyes.’ I got their address and promised to write even though at the time I didn’t think I would have much to write about.” Steve Rogers was everything Peter thought Captain America would be without the shield and cowl. Somehow that knowledge seems even more bizarre than knowing super villains don’t like rainy days any more than anyone else. 

“And that brings me to something I have held onto for most of my life.” Aunt May presented Steve with a simple brown box labeled Rogers in neat, faded black lettering.

“He kept all of those letters?!” The Dodger’s mug was quickly abandoned on the coffee table before Steve took the box onto his lap.

“The letters and a few other things your mother gave Dad for safe keeping and he never got back to you.”

Peter watched Steve pull out letters, pictures and a few other odds and ends. He didn’t recognise any of the handwriting and all of the people were mysteries to him so he sipped his cooling cocoa and listened to his elders swap stories. After an hour or so of watching them reminisce it occurred to Peter that Aunt May hadn’t laughed or smiled so much since Uncle Ben had died almost two years ago. Maybe having Captain America for a cousin wouldn’t be so bad if he kept coming around and making her smile like her nephew couldn’t. In another hour Peter hastily mentioning the rain having stopped followed by the lateness of the hour in an effort to get Captain America out of the house before his aunt brought out any of her photo albums of pre-now Peter.

“I can’t thank you enough May!” Steve was grinning from ear to ear as he secured a fifth bungee cord around the precious memory box that he had wrapped in four plastic bags before securing it to the passenger seat of his vintage bike, “And it was wonderful meeting you Peter. Your a sharp kid, remind me to get you into Avengers Tower sometime you’d love JARVIS.” 

Peter just ducked his head and mumbled a thanks-sure while May hugged the blond tightly before stepping away, “There is nothing to thank me for Steve. Just promise me you won’t be a stranger, alright? Your family and I expect to see you often!”

“I’ll take you up on that don’t worry.” Steve grinned as he threw a leg over the bike and started her up.

“And get a helmet!” May shouted with a frown that spoke of more indulgence than disapproval.

“Yes Ma'am!” Steve shouted back before peeling away.

And suddenly it was just another normal school night. Peter was walking into the house after curfew with his mind way too full to sleep anytime soon but unlike most nights Aunt May just smiled, hugged him and bid him sweet dreams. The weirdness wasn’t quite ready to quit apparently. The boring, overcast day of classes that followed the night Peter Parker met his cousin who happened to be Captain America were a disinteresting blur. Bagging a few petty criminals that night was only marginally more interesting and none of it dulled the excited buzz in Peters head that sound suspiciously like “OMG Captain A-fucking-merica is my cousin! How cool is that?!” On second thought it had to be his Spidey sense acting up. The rest of the week kept on in this pattern.

Friday night, Spiderman’s late night, found the hero laid out on a roof just outside of Hells Kitchen watching the city lights dance on the bottoms of the dark angry rain clouds that still lingered over most of New York. He was damp from a drizzle that had only stopped a few seconds ago but couldn’t bring himself to care as he epic failed at thinking about anything unrelated to Captain America or Steve Rogers. Googling him had been the worst idea ever but he was mostly proud of himself for holding out until that afternoon in the library during American history class. Getting caught by his teacher; however, was it’s own special kind of horribly life ruining. Peter closed his eyes and sighed hopelessly.

“The rain got you down too baby boy?” Opening his eyes Peter wasn’t surprised to see the bottom of a slurpee cup hovering over his face with Deadpools familiar mask blocking out the sky above it.

“My history teacher is a cruel hearted harpy and won’t let me change my history project.” Peter knew he sounded like a whiny teenager but he was still in highschool despite the spandex and spider powers and so what if he felt a little entitled to these moments once in awhile.

“Okay... Want me to shoot her in the head and mail it to the school board? Friends do shit like that for each other right? Helping a homie out and all that.” Apparently this was a relatively lucid day for the merc with a mouth.

“Naw I’ll get over it but thanks.” Peter sat up pulling his legs into a smooth crisscross and scooting his mask up over his nose before he took the slurpee and latched onto the straw.

Wade plopped down and sprawled out leaning back against a dirty satellite dish nursing his own murky brown mix of every flavor of slush available, “So what is this project thingy about that makes it suck so bad?”

“Captain America.” Peter tried to keep the pout out of the words and Deadpool didn’t bother to try not spitting his drink all over the cement between them dramatically.

“That makes less sense than I do! Isn’t he like your superhero man-crush? That should be the easiest project ever! Wow Spidey and here I thought you were some smarty-pants genius guy.” Wade frowned as he peer into his cup, “Dammit I’m almost out...”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t just find out he’s my cousin which makes it extremely awkward!” And suddenly Deadpool’s mask is a hairs breadth from Spiderman’s and Peter is wondering why it had seemed like a good idea to say that out loud.

Then Deadpool is squeeling like a cheerleader and the rest of his his slurpee is free falling over the side of the building, “You so have to get me his autograph!! Can I meet him? Seriously cause I’ve always wondered what a head wound from a vibranium shield would feel like!”

“Umm.... what?!” Articulate Peter is not when faced with a fan girling Deadpool.

“Please!!” 

“Are you insane?!” Deadpool paused in his theatrics to stared at Spiderman, “Right. Stupid question... but seriously let me get this straight. You, Deadpool, want to meet Captain America?”

“Hellz to the yes!!” Is more or less roared to the drizzle that just started back up. Peter thinks the sky might be mocking him and his sad excuse for a life.

“So that you can 1) get his autograph and 2) have him bludgeon you in the head with his shield. Is that about right?”

“Mostly the second one but yeah. Your good with summaries Spidey!” The merc’s grin is too big for comfort and all teeth, like a man eating shark.

Peter frowns,“No.”

“Pretty please!”

“No.”

“The boxes and I will be on our best behavior! I’ll even throw on my best clothes so I don’t look like a slob and embarrass you!” 

“.... were your ‘best clothes’ purchased in the womens or girls department of a store?” Peter is proud of himself for not pinching the bridge of his nose like Aunt May does when Peter himself is being petulant.

“Eh.... no?” The “o” is drawn out and that is less than reassuring.

“I don’t have time for this. I have bad guys to catch and teen angst to wallow in. Later Wade.” Spiderman turns around and is just about to swing away when Deadpool grabs him from behind.

“I’ll find different best clothes! Please Petey! Please! Please! Please with a hooker on top!” Deadpool has Peter’s back crushed against his chest, feet lifted off the ground and is giving the distinct impression that he could start shaking his best friend to death in desperate enthusiasm any minute.

“Fine! Just put me down and I’ll see what I can do, ok!”

More fangirling ensues. Peter is whirled around and one of the belts across Wade’s chest is digging into his masked cheek while his ribs creak under the force of a hug. At least his feet are back on the ground. Inside the relative safety of spandex Peter Parker turns off the gravity on his situation and lets himself smile as Deadpool rambles his unique brand of thanks interspersed with something about concussions and lacerations caused by semi-blunt metal objects. Wade is the craziest person Peter has ever met and something in the universe enjoys watching the man in misery almost as much as it enjoys Steve Rogers smiling but Peter thinks thats ok. So long as the universe doesn’t object to Peter enjoying his best friends too few happy moments particularly when the cause is Peter himself. And maybe since the universe likes Steve so much there won’t be too much chaos when he meets Deadpool…

“Just so we’re clear I can wear the best underwear I’ve already got, right? Cause that was a hard won star-spangled silk thong and I can’t wait to show my American pride!” Suddenly Deadpool is standing back in contemplation, “Assembled in America counts as made in America now right? ‘Cause I’ve got this strap on that’s red, white, and blue… It’s pretty impressive!”

Peter resists facepalming. A guy can dream right?


End file.
